12 Days of Christmas
by MadBat27
Summary: Zsasz is on a killing spree, his own personal Christmas gift to Gotham. And he's got a surprise twist to his usual M.O. to keep the Batfamily on their toes. Xmas fic 15/25.


The knife slid away, spilling blood across the dirty street. Hidden from the glare of passing headlights, the growing puddle looked black as night as it flowed steadily from the wound. High-rise apartments, little more than drug dens, blocked the silver moon, and the streetlights had been busted more times than anyone could count. This street had been surrendered to the worst of Gotham's criminals.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Victor Zsasz called out, licking the blood from the blade. "I know you're out there, Bats."

The sound of laughter filled the narrow street, and Zsasz visibly tensed. Not Joker's cackle, at least, but little better. Bad news for Zsasz either way. The shrill laughter echoed, making it impossible to know where it came from. Zsasz span around in circles, eyes searching frantically, jaw clenched tight. His knuckles whitened on the knife.

"I'll take that as a compliment, I suppose," Robin answered at length. A flicker of yellow shot across the alleyway.

"So, the Batman sends his inept sidekick to spoil my holiday plans."

"Oh, we both know I'm very ept," Robin replied from the shadows. How he hid the array of bright colors was anyone's guess. "So how about you make this easy on yourself, and put the knife down."

"Before somebody gets hurt?" Zsasz raised his arm, displaying the red ribbon winding down the inside of his elbow. "Too late for that."

"Okay," Robin said, grimacing slightly. It was hard to get used to the idea of someone cutting their own flesh for fun. Even the Joker wasn't usually that crazy. "Then let's quit while you're only slightly behind."

"Can't do that little bird. There are so many people suffering out there. I have to relieve their pain, and wear their agony on my own skin. And for this… magical season… I will extend the gift to twelve. For the twelve days of Christmas."

Zsasz stared about him in a wild-eyed fervour, as if visited that moment by the Saints, or spirits, of one kind or another. The stars seemed caught in his eyes, brightening the alley for just a moment. There was little worse than a madman working for a higher power; only a madman working for nothing at all. Zsasz licked his self-mutilated lips. If he felt any discomfort from the myriad scars that marred his body, or the warm blood seeping from his elbow, he showed no sign of it.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but the twelve days of Christmas start on the 25th," Robin informed him, dropping to a perch of exposed guttering alongside one of the tenements. "So how about I take you back to your padded cell for now, and we can pick this back up in a week or two. Or never. I'm good with that, too."

Zsasz seemed to consider this a moment, then grinned hauntingly. "Or, how about we call this a dry run?"

Robin readied his staff for the inevitably short-lived altercation to come. Zsasz and Robin had fought a number of times before, and nothing about this situation suggested a different result on the cards.

Suddenly, Zsasz howled, like a man possessed, and threw his knife at the Boy Wonder's heart. The young acrobat easily vaulted away, alighting silently atop the dumpsters below, on the other side of the alley. The knife clanged harmlessly against the guttering, then dropped to the floor. Zsasz merely grinned, as if he'd accomplished all that he had intended. Then, with dazzling agility, the pre-teen hero somersaulted forward and with a succession of well-aimed disabling attacks, had immobilized the crazed villain. Yet Zsasz merely laughed.

"You think you've won, Birdie," he giggled. "But this time, I have insurance."

"I don't think any amount of insurance can cover the damage done to that face," Robin smirked.

"There's a bomb," Zsasz whispered. "Nearby, but somewhere more public. And if you don't let me go, it'll go off, and free hundreds of the burden of life. But in such an impersonal manner. Or… you could let me go. And I'll save twelve. Just twelve, but the way it is meant to be done."

"Where?" Robin growled, his best impersonation of the Batman. And frankly, pretty convincing for a boy of his age.

"Park Row Station," Zsasz giggled.

"Where?" Man of few words. Definitely learning from the Bat.

Zsasz simply shrugged, pure mirth in his expression. He thought he'd finally done it, finally outsmarted the Dynamic Duo. One part of it at least. It was rare to see one of the Arkham lot look so smug, so satisfied. Except for the Joker, of course.

"You better getting going, if you want to find it in time. And I'll be on my way."

"No need. That's what I have a partner for."

That was her cue. Zsasz's jaw dropped as Batgirl swopped across above them, heading as fast as she could to the station. To the bustling city streets below, she was a blur of black, maybe a hint of yellow trim and a wisp of red hair. Her heart beat double-time as she wove through the chimney stacks and washing lines. She ran through the list of likely locations to plant a bomb in the station. Batman had prepared her well for this mission. Vulnerable points in public places was on of the first lessons they were taught. Sometime it scared her how well Batman thought like criminals. She was just glad they were on the same side.

Within fifteen minutes she'd found and disarmed the bomb, and twenty minutes later she rendezvoused with Robin at the Batcave, prepared to be greeted by their mentor.

"You were right," Babs said. "He had a back-up plan. How did you know."

"It fit the pattern. Small-time villains breaking their standard M.O. Somebody is helping them."

"Who?" Babs asked.

"And why?"Robin added.

"Undetermined. As of yet, they seem to be observing. Testing our capabilities. Learning our vulnerabilities. They're planning something. Whoever 'they' are." Batman leered at the screen of the Bat-computer, his fingers steepled. "We're being tested. We can't afford to fail."

The two young sidekicks exchanged wary glances, feeling the full weight of the ominous silence that followed their tutor's words. Villains working together was, in itself a dire situation. But if that was just the preliminary cut and thrust, sizing up the enemy, before any real effort was made… could they rise to the challenge at all? If either of the young sidekicks were hoping for words of encouragement from their mentor, they were to be sorely disappointed.

"We should get some rest," Babs said to a somewhat deflated Richard Grayson. "We did well tonight. I'm sure he's proud of us. Of you."


End file.
